


An Eye For An Eye

by lingeringmelodies



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon compliant through Season 2, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Slow Burn, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lingeringmelodies/pseuds/lingeringmelodies
Summary: What if Freddie the bomber made national news and did, in fact, inspire another crazy person to commit violence?
Relationships: Athena Grant/Bobby Nash, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson/Karen Wilson, Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han, evan buck buckley/eddie diaz
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	An Eye For An Eye

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be my Big Bang contribution. I've decided to start posting it. Hope it doesn't disappoint.

Prologue

A soft breeze wafted it's way down the alley, bringing the pungent odor of rotting garbage with it. The man sleeping inside the box at the far end of the alley huddled up, shivering slightly. The sharp sound of a bottle rattling loudly broke the otherwise silent night and a cat howled off in the distance. The man in the box popped one eye open, listening intently in the dark. Footfalls, slow and careful, echoed softly as they came closer.

Who the hell would be invading his alley in the middle of the night?, the vagrant wondered sourly. Whoever it was was disturbing his already troubled sleep. This was his space! The other homeless folk in the area all had their own spots, and by unspoken agreement, they never encroached on anyone else's chosen home. The man had chosen the alley beside the firehouse because the people inside made a habit of throwing out perfectly good grub almost daily. 

Firefighters made surprisingly good cooks, but a well timed alarm always ensured that he was the one who would benefit from their talents. The man ran a hand through his scraggly hair, silencing back a grunt when he heard the sound of metal meeting asphalt and slight splashing of something a few feet from his carboard home. The man peeped out and saw a figure huddled near the firehouse, what looked like a gasoline can on the ground beside him. The hooded figure was huddled up near the wall. The man couldn't tell what he was doing, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

"This is my home!" he called out, breaking the silence. The hooded man jerked his head up and stared silently for several long moments. "Go find your own place."

The stranger walked closer, his face hidden by the hood. He stopped outside the box and spoke quietly. "You don't want to be here, old man." He threw something down toward him and the homeless man saw a ten dollar bill flutter to the ground. "Go get some food, or booze. Just get on out of here."

The old man shook his head firmly. "This is MY place. Go find your own!"

The stranger stared at him silently for several long moments, before he turned away and walked back toward the can. He picked it up and carried it back over. "You should have just taken the money," he said firmly before he splashed the can toward the man and his box. The smell of gasoline rent the air as the liquid splashed all over the man and his home.

The hooded figure struck a match and flicked it, watching as the flame set the liquid to burn. The stranger picked up his can and moved rapidly down the alley, walking even faster as the vagrant's tortured screams filled the night.

tbc?


End file.
